Chapter Eleven
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Sam near jumped out of skin. One of the male scientists came and stood next to him at the window where he'd been stuck looking out over the treetops for the last half an hour, watching the sun rise and wondering just how the hell he could get himself back on that chinook and away from this place the next chance he got. Sam cleared his throat, trying his best to recover some sort of composure.
"It's definitely a sight,'' mumbled Sam, with all the enthusiasm of a man sentenced to life in prison. The man just sniggered.
"It's not much of a sight though is it? Not really that pretty either, you ask me." The man ran a hand through his brown hair, putting a thick arm up against the edge of the window frame. He looked out of the window at the view with the same air of worldly wisdom that Sam's dad usually had about him. "Never really did like it here. Or out there I should say. Much preferred it inside. Nothing quite like the air-con of the cryo-rooms."
"You're one of the science guys right? Dr…Martin, was it? Sorry, I'm really terrible with names." Sam winced, hoping this guy wasn't like that asshole McCallister. An easy smile spread across that worldly face.
"Dr. Pat Morgan,'' he said, shaking Sam's hand firmly. "Please, though, Pat will do. Sam right?"
"Right."
"So how do you know Beth?" Pat sounded genuinely interested. "Did you work on Nublar when she did?"
It took Sam a moment to wrestle with the fact that this man thought he had been a part of this before. Whatever this, and Nublar, and anything else that went on in this nightmarish place was. Sam shook his head.
"I don't know anyone here,'' said Sam, watching some birds fly from the treetops in the distance with no small stab of envy. "Honestly, still not really sure what here is. Are there really dinosaurs out there? Real ones?"
"As real as you and me,'' said Pat. "Or, I suppose, as living as you and me. We never could get a complete code for any of them, so none of them are pure, or authentic in that sense. We had to fill in the gaps of their genetic sequence and align the proteins…sorry, I can see I've lost you." Pat looked like Sam must have been making the most baffled face, which of course he had been. "But, yes, they're out there. Somewhere." Sam turned back to look out at the growing light of the dawn.
"Why though?" asked Sam, frowning. Pat blew a breath out of flapping lips in that thoughtful way people did.
"Because once upon a time, a man had a dream I suppose. And a lot of money."
"John Hammond? I heard the others talking about him a bit. He's the guy that started all this?"
"Pretty much. He had a business partner though. Lockheart, I think his name was. No. Lockwood. They parted ways, long time ago. Hammond went it alone and nearly made his dream a reality."
"And that was that Park place? Is that here?" Sam watched more birds take flight.
"Jurassic Park,'' mused Pat. "Hell of a place. But no, not here. This is Sorna. The Park was on Isla Nublar."
"So, what is this place then?" said Sam.
"The engine room,'' said Pat, his voice swelling with pride. "The factory floor. This is where we truly made history and pushed boundaries people didn't even realise could be pushed. This was our playground." Pat rubbed at his chin, and Sam could see his eyes shining now. "Here, we explored the very meaning of creation. Every species we made was like a piece of art. A painting! We controlled everything. From the pigments and colour in their skin, to their metabolisms and their growth rate, to the hormones and sexual dimorphism of them."
"You can do that?"
"We could do anything,'' said Pat, smiling broadly.
Sam was nodding his head slowly, as if the idea of creating life like that was something to nod along to. Inside though, he just wanted to go home. Not even home to Chicago, but home to his family. Where there were people who made sense, and life was boringly simple, and the biggest animal you had to worry about was a horse. Not whatever might be out there, amongst the forests and jungles. Creatures he'd not even seen yet. But creatures he already feared. Only made it more terrifying when he'd seen those barricades in the dark hallways. He wasn't sure what was worse. The thought of being trapped or the thought of what they were trying to keep out.
The lab itself didn't help either. Abandoned, desolate and in utter ruin, it was fit purely for a horror story of isolation and darkness. The creaks and drips in the stillness of the night had pricked at Sam's mind and slowly scratched away at his nerves, like a small set of claws raking at his skin and sinking deeper and deeper until he thought he might scream.
He'd had to get out of that room, with all those sleeping people. Away from the slow breathing and quiet snorts. The annoying grunts and murmurs. And the nagging memory of Mort's story last night, and the look in his eyes. Which only led to two questions. Why did he come here and how the fuck could he get away?
He'd managed it as far as slipping through the door. The darkness of the hall, and yawning stairwell down to that soulless room where they'd sat last night had been enough to stop him in his tracks. It was like the waiting room for the dark and endless labyrinth of the lab, a waiting room where he could dwell nicely on his every regret, but mostly the regret of saying yes to this.
So he'd stood by the window, looking out as the sun broke through the darkness and did nothing to lighten his mood.
Pat tapped him on the shoulder.
"You ok Sam?"
"Honestly? No, not really." Sam could feel his shoulders dropping, threatening to slide off his body and crumple on the floor by his ankles. Pat just smiled, his eyes creasing around the edges so like his dads used to do.
"I get it. Scary stuff we're doing here. You'll be doubting the shit out of yourself. Hell, I am. Still wondering why I am here and not with my wife and kids. But trust me, if that Redgrove woman and Kurt have given you the green light, then you must be doing something right."
"He is.'' Elliot had appeared from the dorm room, his huge frame slipping through the narrow door with surprising ease. A big hand slapped down on Sam's other shoulder. "Sam's dragged most of the equipment all over this place and I haven't heard a single grumble. Perry and Mort sound like a couple of old ladies compared to this kid. And he does it all with hardly any sleep. Up early again Sam? That's two nights in a row."
"Light sleeper,'' said Sam, sounding like that convict sentenced to prison all over again. Elliot made a chirping noise in that strange soft voice of his. Might have been amusement.
"And you, Dr. Morgan?"
"Slept like a baby,'' said Pat, rubbing his stomach. "Had to pinch a loaf though." Elliot chuckled.
Sam was sure Pat had come from the stairs behind him and not the restroom, but then again he'd been pretty sure he could fly away through that window for a while.
The sounds of people murmuring and shuffling crept from the ajar doorway, and it wasn't long before they were filing out, rubbing eyes and stretching arms and looking like they'd all been there for years, some faces already pale and a bit haggard. They didn't even look at Sam as they went by, some of them muttering together or trudging along in stony silence. Clearly not morning people.
Sam found himself pulled with the flow of people downstairs into the drab and dim room below, where Kurt England was stood with Redgrove. His dog Merv came bounding over to Sam, wet nose muzzling at Sam's hand and paws leaping up onto his chest. Sam couldn't stop the smile, nor the playful ruffle he gave the dog. Kurt cleared his throat, the habitual sound quite familiar now.
"We'll be heading to the canteen for breakfast today. Bit of a walk so grab some water and let's get on with it." He cleared his throat again and plucked a bottle of water from the plastic wrapped crate and promptly strode for the door.
Everyone followed suit, sniffing and coughing and, Sam was pretty sure, some of them chewing nicotine gum. He flicked a glance at Perry and sure enough, his jaws were moving with some speed. His eyes looked a bit bloodshot, and his pallor was pale. Seemed he needed more nicotine.
Armed with a bottle of water, Sam found himself at the front of the group with Elliot and Pat, following on after Kurt and Redgrove. Sam couldn't help but notice Elliot was carrying one of the shotguns over his shoulder, a big fist clenched around the strap. The presence of such a big gun only added to Sam's worries of being stuck in this place. He sincerely hoped they would be no need to see it fired.
In a grim and silent single file line, they made their way through the horribly quiet and dank corridors. Sam was still struggling with it, and the weak beams of light from the flashlights did little to drive back the darkness. Occasionally, the walls would groan or the floor would creak, like a tortured corpse brought back to life only to find it was still in pain. It set Sam's teeth on edge just walking through it.
Took them several minutes to wend their way down some old stairs and even darker corridors, but eventually they emerged into a wider room that appeared to be on the ground floor, or it certainly looked that way judging on the limited view out of the dirty windows. Blinds and shutters were closed wherever they were intact, and the cool light of the growing morning seeped through any gaps and cracks, casting the room into a half light.
Sam realised this was one of the few places he hadn't seen yesterday, and looking about, it was now obvious it was, or certainly used to be, a canteen. Or a version of one.
Tables and old chrome chairs lay either turned over or on their sides against some of the walls, and the only other door out of the room that Sam could see had a thick piece of wood pushed through the two pull handles. Broken crockery or table caddies littered the floor, and trays and overturned trolley's added to the whole sorry scene.
But all of that fell away from being important or worrying in one quick moment.
The scent of food hit Sam like the embrace of an old friend. Real food, hot and full of flavour, seeking him out and beckoning him into the room towards a four tables that had been pushed together to form a long line near an opening in the wall, chairs positioned neatly under the table.
Sam saw Alejandro in that opening, his smiling face visible through steam and dim light, and then Sam's stomach growled. The growl and twist of a stomach that had ignored its hunger for a few days in favour of the empty diet of anxiety. Then Sam caught the scent of something else, and his mouth flooded with saliva.
The smell of coffee was unmistakable, and Sam didn't even bother trying to wonder how it was here. It didn't matter. Alejandro might well have been a magician for all he cared in that moment. The others were harbouring similar thoughts it seemed. They tumbled forward towards the table, each of them finding a seat and settling in while Alejandro leant on the sill of the serving hatch and nodded at them all as if they had all gathered at a family dinner, and he the patriarch.
Sam inhaled the scent of the food again, settling down next to the curly headed computer nerd Valerie and Pat. In moments, Alejandro had glided from the swing door of his kitchen and in a blur of showmanship put plates of steaming food in front of them. Sam looked down at it, trying to work out what was on his plate.
"Gallo Pinto,'' said Alejandro, sitting down opposite Sam, and next to Beth he noticed. The lure of the cooked food wasn't quite enough to stop that odd stab of jealousy Sam had whenever he looked at her. He really wasn't sure why though. Sam nodded, selecting a smile of interest.
"What is it?" he asked, poking at the yellow mass beside what looked like rice.
"Black beans, rice and sour cream. Scrambled eggs and…" he took the pot of coffee that was being passed down the line of people and poured Sam a mug, "a fried plantain. This is the food of my country."
Sam carefully speared a bit of egg with some rice onto a fork, eyeing it curiously. Wasn't a typical breakfast that he was used to, but Sam was fast giving into the building hunger and demand of his body to let any suspicious culinary articles get in the way. He took a mouthful of the food, felt his neglected taste buds explode in delight, and then the door behind them banged open.
Someone was striding in, dressed like a cheap astronaut, it looked at first. Sam would have sniggered if it wasn't for the look of fury on the face of Dr. Wu. The sterile suit of a scientist looked suddenly menacing. Wu had not said two words to Sam at all, and that seemed to extend to everyone, even the other scientists. But now he looked ready to violently launch himself at anyone who dared meet his eye. Wu kicked a chair out of his way.
"England!" He spat the word from his mouth as if it was a piece of rotting food. Kurt looked at him evenly, a slight frown and a hand on Merv's head, calming the animal. "England you assured me! You said you could handle it!"
There was the sound of a chair squealing on the floor as Kurt stood up, then he cleared his throat.
"Dr. Wu, perhaps you could take a moment and calmly explain what the problem is?"
Wu seemed to inflate with more anger. Sam was sure if he poked him with his fork he'd explode and take the whole lab with him. Wu moved round to Kurt, ignoring the wide eyes and slack jaws of shock of everyone else and dragged Kurt aside.
"My lab!" Wu hissed. "It is not ready." Kurt's frown only deepened as Wu took another breath, inflating again. "You told me it was taken care of! You told me I would be able to start immediately!"
"Everything was in place and working last night…'' started Kurt, his solid demeaner standing firm in the face of Wu's withering hisses and fiery glares. Sam could see Kurt's moustache bristling though, his own temper being tested.
"That was last night!" Wu thumped the table, showing more animation in two minutes than Sam had seen in two days. "I cannot afford any delays!"
"What exactly is the issue please?" This from Redgrove, who had stood and languidly drifted over. Wu turned his blazing eyes on her and faltered for a moment as she returned a cool stare of her own.
"The issue?" Wu's eyebrows knit together. "I'll show you the issue."
In a fluid motion he spun on his heel and stalked back the way he'd come. Redgrove jerked her head at Elliot, who rose and followed, whilst Hal and Valerie scrambled to their feet as well. Others were standing from curiosity, including Beth and McCallister, growing frowns spreading and speculative whispers, mixing with concerned murmurs. All in all, an air of thickening intrigue.
Once again, they were all walking through the darkened corridors. All except Alejandro, who remained at the tables with a hurt look on his face as he looked at the half-eaten plates around him, and Merv, who sat beside him with a bowl of food of his own.
They were lost from view as they turned a corner and took a direction that Sam had been yesterday whilst he hauled all those crates about, twisting and turning and then a final flight of steps. The way to where he'd been told all the White Team would be located during the day. Wu pushed his way through some double doors into a lobby of some kind with several desks of consoles and terminals, all arranged in parallel lines with a central aisle leading to another set of heavier looking double doors.
Double doors that Sam had not been allowed through yesterday. He couldn't quite ignore the sense of curiosity about what was behind them, and it flared larger now that it looked like they might all be going through.
Dr. Wu hooked a thumb around a lanyard under his white sterile suit collar and pulled out a plastic card attached to the end of it. He swiped it through a wall terminal to the side of the doors as if for that moment the small device was the cause of all his displeasure. The card hissed through the slot and the heavy doors made a metallic click.
He strode in, but Kurt and Redgrove hovered at the threshold. Wu looked back at them, his brows still fused together.
"Well?" he growled. "Do you want to see or not?"
"Doctor,'' said Kurt. "We were told strictly not to enter this environment. You were very clear about contamination."
"That doesn't matter now! Come!"
They all shuffled after, Sam feeling just as awkward as Kurt and Redgrove looked. Clearly this was a place they never expected to go. And clearly that didn't sit well with people who liked rules.
Sam passed through the doors with everyone else and was almost pushed aside by the other members of White Team. Sam felt his eyes widening as he looked around him.
White sheets, from floor to ceiling, were hung or draped around the entire room, which looked to be of an extensive size. Some cut across the room from different angles, creating a network of passageways and smaller spaces. Above, catwalks crossed overhead or hugged the walls, and the tops of pillars could be seen holding them up. Pipes and tubes straddled the walkways or columns in a strange network, like the veins of some nightmarish robotic creature.
Light was coming from somewhere, but it was impossible to tell where. It looked like daylight to Sam, but that seemed impossible in this place. This room was already disconcertingly out of place with what he had seen. It was like something out of a sci-fi film of some sort. The mysterious nerve centre of the alien invaders maybe. A place of clinical and experimental horror.
Wu stalked through the garish whiteness, the others in his wake with Sam trailing at the back with Mort. They passed by strange apparatus, adding further to the bizarre workplace. Large glass domes and cylinders stood in rows, wide enough that Sam thought his hands wouldn't meet if he wrapped them around them. Large, mechanical arms with pincer like hands stood nearby, looming above head height in silent vigil.
Wu swatted a curtain of white sheet away and rounded on a large bank of terminals with monitor screens. Pipes and cables snaked into and away from the terminal like a mass of worms, slithering off into the depths of the white room. Wu looked at Kurt expectantly. Kurt frowned.
"Am I supposed to understand what I am looking at?" said Kurt, stroking the end of his moustache.
"Absolutely not,'' said Wu irritably. "But what you are looking at should be damn well working! Everything hinged on this!"
"Hmmm,'' rumbled Kurt, in that way that disappointed people do. It was the sound of someone considering who best to blame for this, in Sam's opinion. Kurt's eyes slid to Redgrove, his eyebrows climbing. She stared coolly back at him, before her own eyes landed on Hal and Valerie. Sam heard the audible gulp from Hal's throat as he worked out which way the shit was sliding. Sam felt bad for them as Redgrove fixed them with a look that was turning more and more baleful.
"Hang on a second,'' spluttered Hal, fussing at his shirt buttons. "This was working when we left it yesterday. And we worked our asses off to get this thing functional, by the way. In less than one damn day!" Hal's voice rose a notch in volume. For all his timid appearance, he knew when to bite back. Valerie was nodding, her curls bouncing.
"We checked it three times. It worked. The servers were up, the automated systems functioning and the robotic assists were live. All this after making sense of that power room. The problem isn't us." Sam felt his sympathy for the I.T couple waning as Valerie's eyes turned to land on Elliot and Perry, and him. "Perhaps the equipment was damaged in transit?" The insinuation was somewhat nauseating as Sam became aware of the faces of very important people looking at him. It was Sam's turn to swallow a nasty lump in his throat, and his knee chose that moment to send a dull ache up through his thigh. A pregnant silence hung in the air for a moment.
"I…he started, before Perry and Elliot were talking over him. Mort too, but then more voices were pouring in.
"It wasn't us. We were careful."
"All supplementary components for any hardware were carefully packaged and tested before travel."
"Don't lay this out our door. No way."
"So its back to us is it? It must have been the computer nerds huh!?"
"Nobody is saying that! But we did our jobs."
"So did we for fuck sake!"
Sam was struggling to keep track of the barrage of accusations and veiled insults that were being thrown back and forth. Then McCallister was wading in.
"If this doesn't work, then we can't do what we came for." He cracked a knuckle. Hal was glaring at him as he moved around the terminal to look behind it where all the cables were converging. Jill had her arms crossed tightly, her round face seeming to angle inwards to a point of building annoyance.
"We came all this way for nothing?" She did not look impressed. But then nobody did really.
"What the hell is this?" said Hal suddenly from behind the equipment. He was kneeling down now, shuffling his bulk down and under the back of the terminal. "Impossible."
"What is it?" hissed Wu, gripping the edge of the desk. Kurt was moving towards Hal.
"This has been…it can't be. We made sure this area was air tight." Hal's head appeared. "The router and mains power supply unit has been…chewed."
"Chewed!" screeched Wu.
"I don't know. Maybe. But somethings been tampered with." Kurt knelt down, his face screwing up as he inspected the damage.
"Compies,'' he murmured, standing and stroking his moustache. "They must have found a way in, the little fuckers."
"And they just happened to take a liking to the control module for the entire enterprise did they?" Wu snorted, shaking his head. "Without this machine, nothing else works. Unless we get the entire facility back up and running."
"Not a good idea,'' said Kurt. "You know how much activity that will generate. We can't keep that kind of power outage quiet."
"Then you had best think of something else,'' said Wu. "If I cannot work, then you do not receive a cent." Kurt let out a long sigh, his thick lips pursing together.
"Perhaps if I radio Matt and Connie,'' he said. "They could try and procure replacement parts for…whatever this is, on their next supply drop." Wu shook his head.
"That will take too long. I need a solution now."
Kurt continued rumbling suggestions, all of them insufficient for Wu, as people started to drift about where they were all stood. McCallister was inspecting the damage now, his knuckles cracking as he disappeared. Sam hovered by the terminal, not sure what to do. His mind was jumping to the wonderfully tantalising chance that they would have to abandoned this whole thing and he could go home. He'd not get a single dime but that seemed a good trade for being rid of this place.
"Summers." Sam spun round. McCallister beckoned him over and pointed to a set of cables that fed into a panel. Sam could see the ragged edge where the cables had been chewed. McCallister didn't say anything, just watched him. Sam shrugged, not liking being this close to such a prick of a guy.
"What?" said Sam. McCallister pointed again, just next to the edge of the where the cable had been severed. Sam squinted. "Is that…?"
"It is. So unless the little green bastards carry blades, this was no dinosaur. And Wu's access card, that's the only thing that unlocks the doors." Sam looked again. The signs of a knife blade against the tough rubber of the cable was faint, but definitely there. As if someone had tried once or twice to cut the cable before settling on a different spot. Sam frowned at the frayed edge of the lead.
"Wouldn't it be a clean cut though?"
McCallister cracked a knuckle, his face thoughtful. He didn't say anything, just frowned at the bickering people. Prick or not, he looked troubled. Sam stood back up and looked at them all, suddenly feeling an uneasy sensation creep through his guts. Beth was talking urgently with Wu, and Redgrove was silently watching all of them, her arms folded. She did not look pleased. She looked at Sam, her frown deepening for a second before she spoke.
"Dr. Wu. I think it evident we have no real solution here. For the sake of common sense, we need to abort this venture and reconsider an alternative approach for your employer."
"Out of the question,'' said Wu, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "We must be successful. I want…"
"The Aviary!" Pat Morgan's voice cut through all the murmuring and heated conversation with such force even Dr. Wu looked shocked. "That's it!"
"Doctor?" said Kurt. Pat sucked in his bottom lip, his eyes darting as he performed some sort of mental gymnastics. He turned to Wu.
"The Aviary has a small lab, built into the cliff face."
"I am familiar, Dr. Morgan,'' said Wu. "Your point?"
"The lab has the same central terminal as this one. We can salvage what we need from that and use it to repair this. We could begin work tomorrow!"
Wu considered Pat for a quiet moment, the chatter around them all ceasing, like a court room waiting for a verdict. Wu turned to Kurt.
"Dr. Morgan has provided a solution. Mr. England, I would like your team to facilitate this."
Kurt turned to Redgrove, who narrowed her eyes with a small shake of her head.
"We have not planned for this,'' she said. "It's a risk we cannot control. It could mean lives at risk." Sam felt a small sliver of admiration for her at that moment, fighting its way up against the normal feeling of intimidation.
"This whole venture is a risk anyway,'' said Kurt, clearing his throat. "We are doing this. I want Perry and Mort on this one, with Mr. Priest. They can take the car and get to the Aviary lab this morning. Its not far from here at all." Kurt's eyes suddenly rested on Sam, and he felt his mouth go dry. "You, Summers, you can tag along as well. I hear you're reliable."
"He shouldn't go," said Redgrove, looking at Sam with distrust. Or was it concern? Seemed a bit sharp to be concern. "He shouldn't be here in the first place."
"He'll be fine,'' said Kurt. "Relax Catherine. The more hands, the quicker this is done."
"Then take Elliot,'' said Redgrove.
"I need Elliot here for another project. Summers goes."
Sam felt his hopes of escaping this island plummet into his guts where it sank into a cold pond of growing terror. It was very quickly dawning on him he was being sent outside the Lab. The still, oppressive darkness of the building suddenly seemed like a happy refuge compared to the completely unknown world outside. The world where all those stories had happened. Sam's mouth got drier. Redgrove took him firmly by the arm suddenly. Her voice low, and somewhat harsh.
"You stick to Perry like glue, understand? You do what your told and do it quickly. They'll report back to me and if you fuck one thing up, it comes out of your pay. I mean it. You stop to tie the laces on those absurd shoes and I'll hear about it." She looked him hard in the eye, and any concern Sam might have suspected evaporated. Utter distrust radiated from her. She glanced at the terminal, her eyes slowly coming back to Sam. Surely she didn't think he had anything to do with this? Seemed completely likely. Sam nodded to her.
"I understand,'' he croaked.
XXXXX
The elevator door rattled open and Sam stepped out into the daylight. For a fleeting moment, it felt like he'd surfaced from the depths of a dark ocean, drawing breath for the first time and squinting against the bright light from above. It took but a few seconds for the clammy humidity in the air and ominous presence of the green jungle around the lab for Sam to feel horribly exposed. As if he were suddenly adrift in that ocean with hungry things beneath him, eyeing up which leg to sink their teeth into.
Perry and Mort strode over to the SUV, with Hal following up behind with a bag of equipment. Sam lingered for a moment, not sure he could quite go with them. Redgrove had seen them off at the top of the elevator shaft with a grim face, and the prospect of going back up to her was almost as bad as the unknown wilderness waiting for him. He clenched his toes inside his shoes, feeling his knee spasm slightly and forcing him to blow a breath out through gritted teeth. How had that tackle led to this?
He took that difficult second step away from the shade of the elevator and made for the car, listening to the back and forth of Perry and Mort while Hal set his bag of tricks in the trunk next to a jumble of other equipment.
"You ever handled one of these things then?" said Mort, slapping the shotgun he was carrying. Sam eyed the weapon. Looked big enough to blow a hole in anything that moved. Perry huffed.
"I know my way around a damn shotgun, Carl. You point and pull the trigger, easy."
"And dislocate your shoulder in the process,'' said Mort. "No, I aint explaining to Redgrove about the dipshit that hurt himself and the dipshit that let him. You drive."
Perry stood there, looking somewhat put out. He looked at the SUV, frowning. Looked like the sight of it gave him some real trouble. Sam could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed with a bit of difficulty. Must really hate driving. Sam cleared his throat.
"I can drive if you want?" he ventured.
"You ever driven off-road? And you ever driven off-road at speed?" Perry raised an eyebrow.
"Can't say I have. Just looked like you really didn't want to." Sam felt a stab of anger as his offer was in the process of being shot down.
"I'll drive Summers. You can read the damn map to make sure we don't get lost." Perry passed a folded map to him. Sam unfolded it and felt his face squinting up as he tried to make sense of the island. It was dotted with notes, crosses and circles. Might as well have been a map to the other side of the galaxy. Perry sighed, leaning over and stabbing a finger on a small square. "We are here. We need to get here. Just tell me which turning to take." Sam nodded silently. Hal stuck his head from the open door of rear seats.
"We going then or what?"
"We're going,'' said Perry. "Lets get the hell out of here." Mort paused halfway between getting in the front passenger seat, an amused look of thought on his face.
"Perry are you sure we haven't met before?"
"For the last time Carl,'' sighed Perry, sinking into the drivers seat. "No. We haven't met before. We didn't go the same College. I don't have a sister called Stacy that you may or may not have dated, and I've never been to fucking Arizona. Will you stop asking me already?"
"Alright, alright,'' chuckled Mort, sitting down and couching the shotgun on his lap. "Just swear you remind me of someone."
Perry shook his head and started the SUV, the engine purring as if eager to get going. Sam didn't feel quite so excited, but he focused on the map and refused to let his fear cripple him, or that prickly rage that seemed to sleep inside his knee, poking its head out every time it spasmed. He'd made it this far, and with a bit of praise, which was somewhat and unexpectedly refreshing. His simmering anger at how his life had turned out was good fuel for getting through things like this. Or that's what he told himself, as being in situations like this was a bit of a unique experience.
Under Sam's direction, they drove away from the brooding laboratory and picked up a narrow dirt track not far from the entrance they used. The looming jungle engulfed them before Sam was ready, and the dark green gloom that swallowed them was the first stab at his nerves. There was something primal about the jungle and moving from the bright daylight to the darkness of the trees was like crossing a boundary that felt like it didn't want to be crossed.
The leaning trees flitted past, dappled sunlight flashing by with them. Sam had to squint further at the map as the flickering light from outside, coupled with the bouncing car from any large ruts, made navigation a slightly nauseating experience. Didn't help that Hal was muttering to himself, Perry's jaw was once again chewing and Mort looked ready to start blasting bullets out of the front windows. The set of his shoulders made Sam uneasy. The realisation followed swiftly after and Sam looked out of his own window, his stomach twisting at the thought of what might be out there. What might be waiting for them round the next bend. Not that he had any real idea. Only the half-remembered images of the fossils in the books he looked at in third grade or the blurry news reports from a few months back.
He took a deep breath and instructed Perry to take the next right, watching the jungle fall away to reveal a bright clearing ahead. A swaying field of grass waited for them, sprinkled with grey rocks and the odd lonely tree, slender branches reaching to the sky with fingers covered in glittering green leaves.
Perry eased the car to a slower speed, edging them out of the treeline into the clearing and following the track, now just two faded lines of brown dirt in the green field. Sam could see Perry's knuckles standing sharp from his hand as he gripped the wheel. He was looking at the grass and clenching his teeth, his jaw still for the moment.
"Nice and steady then, eh?" said Mort.
"Nice and steady,'' echoed Perry. "Everyone keep your eyes open now. Open spaces and long grass is a bad combination."
The SUV rolled forward, wending its way through the grass. Long blades whipped and brushed at the windows as they passed, like green seeking fingers. Sam sucked at his gums, flicking a glance at the map. He traced the road they were on to the cross of their destination.
"Just follow this road, past that patch of forest there and then it's one final left turn. This Aviary place shouldn't be much further."
Perry grunted something and they picked up a bit of speed. Sam could feel the tension from the two men in the front. It really didn't help knowing one of them had been here before. Made it much worse in fact. All Sam could think of at that moment was Mort's story about the grass last night. The track meandered through the grass, and Sam was sure he heard the low rumble of something. A long, sorrowful sound of something outside. He gripped the map a bit harder. Perry sat up straight.
"What the fuck is that?" he said. Mort jerked his head from his window to look ahead to where Perry was now pointing. Hal and Sam looked between the seats.
About thirty metres ahead, in the middle of the track, something was standing. Sam leant forward, trying to work out the odd shape of what he was looking at. It was tall, and thin, but bending and curving in places like a pole that had been warped. It was greyish white. Took Sam far to long to realise it was a bone.
They approached and stopped, and Sam gasped. Behind the first bone, another few metres, was another bone, set into the ground and sticking up at a slight angle, a pointed tip poking into the air. Sam guessed it must have been taller than him. Another was set in the track beyond, again at an interval. Only this bone had something set on the top of it.
It was a skull. The skull of a monster. Sam knew it belonged to a dinosaur, but whilst he felt strangely thankful his first experience was not of a giant set of teeth coming at him, this was somehow worse.
The skull hung there, its makeshift bone support wedged through the empty eye socket and listing at an angle. The lower jaw was missing. The upper jaw had a row of horribly sharp teeth, some of them missing. Above those empty sockets, a horn stuck out from the skull. It looked like the skull of a dragon or a demon, something from a myth or fable. Surely this could not belong to a living animal. The skull looked huge. Sam sucked at his gums again, lost in dark thoughts of what kind of creature this once must have been. So lost, he hadn't considered the obvious when Perry spoke it.
"Who the fucking hell has done that?" Perry stuffed another piece of gum in his mouth and started chewing. Mort just looked at him, his face a mask of alarm.
"My God,'' breathed Hal, fussing at the head rest of Perry's seat.
"Come on Perry,'' coughed Mort, gripping the shotgun and twisting it in his hands slightly. "Lets just get going. We can worry about this later."
Perry made that grunting sound of acknowledgment again, and then stomped on the gas. The car barrelled forward and smashed through the first bone. It smacked against the bull-bars of the SUV and disappeared under the car. The second one snapped in half, and then the skull of that monster came rushing up to them. It had been set on the tallest of the three bones, and as the car struck it, Sam saw the skull spin away, bounce once on the roof of the car and then fall into the grass, lost from view in the dirt cloud behind them.
Perry was muttering to himself as they sped on, rounding bends and taking that last left turning at a higher speed than Sam would have thought safe. They passed through a strip of jungle, splashing through a shallow stream which splattered mud up the windows, and then they were back out in the daylight, once again in a wide space.
Only this time Sam saw a building ahead. It was a round shape, with a series of supports protruding from the outer walls that held up the circular roof, the centre of which sprouted a turret like shape. Like a look-out of some sort. It was pale grey and dirty green, but the sight of something man-made was a welcome sight. Beyond the building, Sam could see the edge of a cliff top and, far away, the other side of what appeared to be a huge canyon, its top crusted with green. In one spot, a river plunged off the edge into the abyss below. White fog drifted just above the edge, a treacherous addition to the scene.
Sam looked out of his window at another structure, this one setting his nerves right back to the edge of what was bearable. An enormous fence stood, in a sweeping arc from two different edges of a patch of forest. Thick struts and bars of iron or steel crossed each other the entire length, with a network of what looked like thick steel wire worked in between the bars. The whole thing was crowned by a spikey adornment, like a monstrous branch of thorns. Sam dared now think about why such a fence like this would be needed. The image of that horned skull flashed in his mind.
Perry pulled the car up alongside the building, cutting off the engine and immediately getting out. The gentle buzz of insects and the soft calls of far away birds was all that could be heard as Sam got out, feeling the sun upon his face. He shaded his eyes. Hal fetched his bag from the trunk.
"Right," said Mort, hefting his weapon. "Lets get this done quick."
He didn't wait, just set off towards the doors set at the front of the building. Sam followed, the slightly damp mud sticking to his shoes and the thinning clumps of grass dragging at his thighs. They crossed through into the dim interior of the building, where Mort led them to a stair case that spiralled both up and down. Upwards, it looked like it went to that turret like floor. Below, the grey mists from outside clamoured at the dirty windows and darkening floors below. Mort's boots made echoing clangs as he led the way down the stairs, towards that waiting darkness.
The stairs spiralled down to a walkway set against a steep rockface, with a thick metal mesh covering. The walkway split in two directions, with one way leading down some further steps. Sam couldn't see the bottom of the steps as the thickening mists, let alone the bottom of the canyon they were evidently descending. Sam looked at the wire mesh, running a hand down its flaking, metal edge. Sam looked up, searching the space above their heads.
"Don't worry, Summers,'' said Perry. "This aviary is empty now. InGen released any animals here years ago. Its probably safer in here than out there."
Mort led them further down, and then Hal spoke up.
"The lab entrance is just up ahead. Providing Dr. Morgan's plan works, we can be done in ten minutes."
They came to a thick door, set into the side of the rockface. Looked like something out of one of those Bond films. The hidden entrance to the villains lair. The door opened easily with a push, and Perry and Mort flicked on some flashlights. The light illuminated a small lobby type room, with rocky walls leading to metal panelled corridors and more heavy doors with large pull handles. Circular windows were set in each door, with nothing but darkness beyond.
They pushed deeper into the lab, passing down short corridors with low ceilings and dark corners. The smell of dank mould and the touch of cold air pressed in at them, and Sam shivered.
The light shone on one door and Hal made a noise of satisfaction.
"Ah, here we are." He scratched at his stomach as he pushed through, the darkness swallowing him. Sam wondered how any one of them could just enter into these strange rooms so confidently. The chilly air was beginning to make Sam's knee throb. He rubbed at his, kneading the muscle of his thigh. He hissed quietly.
"Summers,'' said Perry. "Wait here and hold the door." He turned and stalked off after Hal with Mort before Sam could remember Redgrove had been very clear about staying close to him. He wedged himself against the door and held it open, looking down the dark corridors. He shivered again, imagining the shapes of demonic skulls appearing out of the gloom. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat, wishing he were leaning against the door of his apartment in his piss-smelling building than be here.
The minutes stretched by, feeling like interminable hours. His mind wandered to the damaged terminal back at the main Lab. He thought about the look of suspicion on McCallister and Redgrove's face. The knife marks on that cable. And how Pat Morgan had said he'd been taking a shit when Sam was now sure he'd come from the stairs. He frowned. A lot of it felt like it didn't add up.
The others reappeared so suddenly Sam near jumped out of skin. Perry dumped a large coil of cable on Sam's shoulder. His knee protested as Sam took the considerable weight. Mort and Hal appeared, carrying an assortment of computer hardware and boxes with buttons and dials and other instruments Sam was confident he would never understand.
"Let's get going then,'' said Mort, and just like that they were moving again. They made their way out of the darkness of the cold lab and back out onto the mist shrouded walkways and mesh tunnels of the wider aviary. The metal steps echoed as they trudged back up them, and Sam was soon sweating with the effort of carrying the salvaged parts.
Seemed all too easy and quick that they were back at the car in a few minutes, loading the equipment into the trunk and then stretching their arms out as if they had all had a good jog in the park and were now back at the carpark ready to head home. Sam wondered how he could ever get to the point of considering the main lab home. But suddenly getting back there seemed like something to look forward to. Even with the mystery of the last night gnawing at him.
They were soon bouncing back along the dirt track, back the way they had come. Past the imposing fence. Back through the stretch of jungle with the stream and back into the clearing with the grass. The sun had climbed higher, bathing the surroundings into brighter and, now that Sam looked, strangely beautiful colours. The trees and their swaying tops looked serenely peaceful, and the birds wheeling above looked untroubled by anything. Sam was beginning to wonder if perhaps this part of the island was deserted of the animals. The hopeful thought of the whole island being deserted crossed his mind.
Then Perry stamped on the brakes.
They all looked. They all saw. Sam felt the very firm need to get back on that chinook and far away again. His guts twisted in disbelief and growing horror.
"The fuck…" whispered Mort.
Ahead, in the middle of the track, the skull of that horned dinosaur sat atop its bone support again, hanging slack through its eye socket. Only it felt like they weren't empty this time. It felt like those sockets looked right at them. The breath caught in Sam's throat, and he felt his skin crawl under his shirt.
"Perry,'' said Mort, checking his shotgun. "Get us the fuck away from that thing."
Perry didn't wait. He hit the gas and they careened forward. He swerved around the bone and skull, bumping up and through the grassy verge of the track and back again. Sam looked behind, watching the silent, still skull as it receded. Sam was terrified it would somehow twist around to look at him. Maybe it would.
The car raced back through the jungle, bends taken at even more extreme speeds. Perry was almost leaning forward over the steering wheel, his knuckles white again and the tendons bulging in his hands. Sam gripped the seat, the map forgotten beside him. Hal was jostled from side to side as the car bounced on its suspension.
The blood was pounding in Sam's ears as Perry skidded to a stop outside the lab where the elevator waited. None of them spoke as they exited the SUV, gathering up what they needed and blundering their way into the elevator. Sam could feel the sweat on his back, cold and clammy and making his shirt stick to his skin. The others looked in similar condition. Their faces made it worse. Perry looked the worst, his eyes looking sunken and his face drawn. He was pale. As if he'd seen a ghost. He crammed more gum into his mouth and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
The quiet halls of the lab were disturbed as they shuffled through them, hefting the equipment and grunting through panting breaths, the sense of needing to get further into the building and away from outside growing. Or that's how Sam certainly felt.
It felt like it took far longer than it should have to reach the antechamber of Wu's work room that they'd been in earlier. It had felt like happier, brighter times. It was. Because there had been no haunted skulls looking at them then.
Kurt was there, with Redgrove, Valerie and Elliot. They were clustered around one of the computer monitors that lined the aisle towards the lab double doors. The glow of the screen illuminating their faces. Faces that were scrunched up. They were all muttering to each other, and Valerie was tutting as he fingers glided over the keyboard, punching in all sorts of keys as she spoke. Looked like they'd been there a while.
Sam didn't care. Nor did the others. Puffing and sweating, they dumped their pile of leads, cables and electrical paraphernalia in a less than ordered pile and all leant against the other desks. Redgrove looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow, her face looking as displeased as it had done this morning. Kurt stood up, looking at them and clearing his throat.
"Success then?"
Mort just nodded, taking a deep breath. Kurt pursed his lips and frowned but didn't ask anything further. Redgrove turned her gaze on Perry, that eyebrow still raised. Perry took a breath of his own, through his nose in a long, deep drag. Sam saw him shake his head gently at Redgrove. She seemed to understand the gesture he didn't want to talk. She narrowed her eyes at Sam and went back to what Valerie was looking at. Explanations would have to come later.
"Ah! Here we go. Knew I'd find it eventually." She punched in a few more keys. Kurt leant forward.
"And this will tell us?"
"Well, it won't speak to us,'' said Valerie, half smirking at what she clearly thought was good wit. "But yeah, we can see a log of every time Dr. Wu uses his access card." She pointed to the screen happily. "See."
"And now can you see what's on the log before today?"
"Sure." She clicked and typed again. Then her eyebrows met in the middle. "That's odd."
"What is?" said Kurt, craning further forward still.
"The log says the doors were unlocked last night. At twenty-three minutes past two in the morning." Valerie shook her head in confusion, looking up at Kurt. "Who the hell is Dr. Jane Marsden?"